Bound by Love

by Stephie Walls

  Dinner flies by, and he engages me in his life. He tells me about his friend Topher and his fiancé, a ditzy girl that Gray seems to think is sweet, but not worthy of Topher’s time. I think he said her name is Heather. He’s convinced they won’t make it, but says he quit trying to talk Topher out of marrying her. Topher and Gray, apparently, go way back. Since they live together, if Topher marries this girl, Gray will have to find another place to go.

  He also mentions his mom, and I can tell he loves her dearly. He’s a mama’s boy; you can see it in his eyes when he talks about her. It’s funny; he keeps calling her Big Dee instead of a traditional name like Mom. It’s endearing actually. He doesn’t know much about his Dad. His Mom had him when she was young, and his Dad hasn’t really been around. I don’t want to ask if he’s ever been around, and he doesn’t really seem to want to talk about him, so I ask him about work.

  Then it’s twenty questions. I ask him some generic questions about music, what he likes to do, and how old he is. When he answers “twenty-six,” I about choke on my drink, and barely keep from spitting across the table in his face.

  “You’re how old?” I’m sure the look on my face is priceless because he’s stifling a laugh.

  “Twenty-six. How old did you think I was?” Damn that smile.

  Stuttering, I respond, “I-I don’t know, twenty-two, twenty-three maybe.”

  “Sorry, baby, twenty-six. I’ll be twenty-seven in August.” I’m staring at him in disbelief. He has a baby face; I never would have guessed he is six years older than I am. He’s going to freak out when he finds out I’m only twenty.

  “I know what you’re thinking, but six years is not that big of an age difference.” His face is totally unreadable.

  “How do you know how old I am?” Geezus, has he done a background check on me? Then it dawns on me, and in unison we say, “Lynn.” I don’t really know what to say. Obviously, he knew there was a large age difference, but didn’t care, so I wonder if I should. Looking across the table at him, I decide no.

  It’s like he sees the struggle in my eyes. The moment it clears, he leans back in the booth. “So, what about you? What makes you tick?” I don’t really like talking about myself. I can’t tell people anything about my upbringing without them assuming I had a silver spoon in my mouth from birth, which is so far from the truth. So, I play the vague card telling him the cliff notes version of my life.

  Then he asks, “So how’d you land your job? You’re pretty young to be where you are.”

  I try to hide the frustration I’m feeling. He doesn’t know this is a sore subject for me, one that everyone asks about, and then never believes my answer. I almost want to tell him what he’s expecting to hear, which is one of two things: my Daddy got me my job or that I slept with someone. Instead, I keep it simple. “My dad got me the interview with Jack at Waltons, but I had to land the job.”

  Chapter Seven – Gray

  Sitting at Applebee’s, the conversation is great. She’s easy to talk to, and listens like she really cares about my friends and Big Dee. Unfortunately, lie number one comes out of my mouth when I tell her that I’m living with Topher. I guess if you call crashing on his couch several times a week living with him, it might be a technicality she can overlook. I’m not looking forward to that conversation, but maybe I won’t have to have it and she’ll never know the difference. Topher sure as hell won’t tell her.

  She listens to BS about my job, asking the usual “get-to-know-you questions,” and about spits her soda all over me when I tell her I’m twenty-six.

  I’m trying really hard not to laugh at her. I’ve known how old she was, but by the look on her face, she hadn’t guessed my age. She manages a response, telling me she thought I was twenty-two or twenty-three. I try to calm her nerves. “I know what you’re thinking, but six years is not that big of an age difference.” I realize that she hasn’t told me how old she is; I just let it slip that I’ve been asking about her. This, on top of knowing where she lives, probably just sent my ass packing.

  “How do you know how old I am?” And we both say, “Lynn.” I see her internally debating whether she should be mad. When I see it clear from her eyes, I lean back to ask her about herself. She gives me an abbreviated version of her life like she’s ticking off facts from a checklist, which seems odd to me. This girl has depth, but is making her life seem mundane.

  I don’t get it. Knowing she is a young, sought after consultant, I ask her how she got her job. Instantly, I know that I’ve asked the wrong question. I’ve heard the rumors that her dad is some big wig in the consulting world and her boss is a close friend of his. I’ve also heard that she’s slept with clients to get large accounts, but I know that’s not true, at least not in our DC because both Brett and Dan have whined about not being able to get anywhere near her and how shutoff she is. I can’t imagine it would be true on any of her other projects. It just doesn’t seem like who she is. While she seems worldly in most aspects, sexually she seems… naïve or maybe just inexperienced. There’s a certain innocence about her.

  She answers in a flat tone that tells me to drop it when she’s done. I want to ask her about how she’s done it, how in three years she’s made it to the top of the heap, but I let it go. The conversation goes to school and a glimpse at her family, but she won’t divulge details on any part of her life. Everything she tells me is very surface level, making me wonder what she’s trying to keep me from seeing. Or maybe this is just who she is, every minute detail in perfect order. Her apartment had been that way. Everything had a place, nothing was out of order. There wasn’t a speck of dust, and I could even see the vacuum lines on the carpet. She had no idea I would be there tonight, so she didn’t do that in anticipation of my arrival. That’s just how she lives. Everything about her seems perfectly organized, well put together. In any other woman, this would drive me nuts, but in her, it just seems to add to her charm.

  I pay the bill. Glancing at my watch I realize when I show up at home after eleven with no phone call or reason for my tardiness, I’ll probably be heading right back out to Topher’s house. I apologize for cutting things short and blame it on having to be at work at seven, but she doesn’t seem upset, and in fact, she looks exhausted. I don’t want to let her go home. I don’t want the night to end. I want to see her tomorrow, but I’m committed to going to a little league football game my friend Matt is coaching.

  I come to a stop next to her car, putting my arm around the back of her seat. I know it’s lame, but the game is not somewhere I will see anyone I know other than Matt; it would give me a chance to spend a few hours with her. I’m nervous, but manage to ask her to go with me. I feel like I just won the lottery when she agrees. I’m on top of the world as she slides out of the seat. Facing me she says, “I believe we have a score to settle.” I’m clueless as to what the hell I’ve done that she needs to settle a score. She does that come with me thing women do with their finger. I’m pretty sure I would follow her into a shark tank bleeding if that’s where she led me.

  I walk around the truck to squat down between her and the door of her car. She looks at me like she wants to eat me for dessert, but then starts her car and turns on the radio. This woman blows me away when “I Keep It Under My Hat” starts playing. It’s one of my favorite Tim McGraw songs, but even better, she wasn’t blowing smoke. I lean in, give her a soft kiss, and laugh before telling her goodbye.

  Driving home, I think about that kiss in her apartment. She looked me right in the eyes, like she could see my soul. I can’t describe the perfection caught up in that one kiss; it’s like I had never been kissed before. With every swipe of her tongue, my dick had twitched. There’s no doubt she could feel it pressed against her leg. I looked at her and knew that I had just thought my world was fucked up before this. I just added a whole new dimension to the shit I’m going to face when I get home.

  Chapter Eight – Gray

  I pull up at my house around eleven thirty to see every light
on. Not good. I consider leaving, going to Topher’s, and calling Abby from there to tell her I’m not coming home when the front door opens. She glares at me, waiting for me to get out of the truck. I take a deep breath to face the music. When I walk in the door, she sits down on the couch and utters the kiss of death from a woman’s mouth, “We need to talk.”

  She’s angry, but shit, she has been for weeks. She’s known things weren’t going well, and that I’m not happy, but I have refused to acknowledge it out loud. We’ve been together since high school. Then we graduated and kept dating, reaching a point where everyone expected us to get married. I wasn’t really feeling it, but Abby was a good girl, came from a good family, and was loyal. I knew she loved me, so against my better judgment, I proposed.

  We’ve been married less than two years, but when she started talking about buying a house, I knew I had to bail. I just didn’t know how. I never expected it to be this way. I thought I’d grow the balls to sit down, talk to her, and tell her that I don’t want to be married, but it just hasn’t happened, and now I have crossed the proverbial line. I can tell by the look on her face — she knows.

  “I called Topher when you didn’t come home. He said he assumed you left after closing the facility. That was four hours ago, Gray! Where the hell have you been? And don’t give me some bullshit story; tell me the truth.” Moment of truth, be a man, and admit that I was out with another woman, or try to lie. Lying seems like the better option, with a half-truth attached, so that’s the route I take.

  “I didn’t want to come home, so I’ve just been driving around thinking.” It was partially true. I didn’t want to come home, and I was thinking when I was driving around. I just didn’t mention I wasn’t thinking about her, nor was I alone when I was driving around.

  “Cut the shit, Gray. Who is she?”

  Abby’s known me for too many years for me to get away with much, but I’m not budging on this one. I will not sacrifice Annie. Abby’s family is going to annihilate me. I won’t let them drag her into it too, especially since Annie is fucking clueless. Abby’s dad and her brother are probably already in route to our house to cut my dick off and shove it down my throat. I can’t believe I’m sitting here listening to my wife call me out, but instead of worrying about hurting her feelings; I’m more concerned about protecting Annie. She’s too good for this shit. I know when she finds out, and she will find out, she’s going to drop me like a bad habit.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about Abby. I told you what I was doing. I didn’t want to be here. I hate being here. You and I both know this was all a mistake, but neither one of us wants to admit it.” I’m trying to stay calm, but I’ve been holding this shit inside for too long. I’m about to erupt.

  “No, Gray, I don’t think it was a mistake. I love you; I have since freshman year. You know that. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy.” She’s on the verge of tears, but I go in for the kill. It’s now or never.

  “Except let me go?” It’s a statement and a question at the same time. It’s my way of saying, “I need you to say it’s okay for me to leave.” I need her to tell me she knows I need to go.

  She’s sobbing. I know I’m hurting her, but I just can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to be here. I’m too young to live in misery for years to come because I was afraid people would get upset. We both say things that we can’t take back before she tells me that if I need to go, then I should. I know she isn’t expecting me to take that as a green light. She thinks it’s going to guilt me into staying, but this time she’s wrong. She’s got her head in her hands; she wants me to comfort her, but all I can manage is, “I’m sorry, Abby.” I walk out to get my clothes from our room, not saying anything else as I walk out the door. I’m not coming back.

  The phone rings over and over before going to voicemail. I call back again and again. Finally the fucker answers the phone. “Topher! I’m on my way over. Unlock the front door.”

  “What the hell, Gray? Did you and Abby get into it again?” Half-asleep he still wants to lecture me.

  “You could say that. I left.” My voice is void of emotion. The sad thing is, I feel freer than I have felt in years. I’m just relieved it’s over.

  “Shit, Gray. Why can’t you ever do this crap during the day like normal people?”

  “See ya’ in ten.”

  When I get there, the house is dark, but the door is unlocked. I go straight to the couch and crash. It’s almost two o’clock in the morning, and I have to be up in four hours to go work a twelve-hour shift.

  “Get the fuck up, man. We gotta go to work.” Topher is nudging my shoulder with his foot. I groan, roll off the couch, and walk to the shower. We leave for work at a quarter to seven. Topher assumes we are going to ride together since I will be coming home with him, but I tell him I need to take my truck so I can go to Matt’s game tonight. He then asks if I’m going alone.

  “Geezus, Topher. It’s not even seven; can we talk about this shit later?”

  He shoots me a death stare. “Yeah. I’ll see you at work.”

  When we get to work, I go in a separate direction, trying to avoid this confrontation. I know what’s coming; Topher likes Abby, even though he knows we aren’t good for each other. He’s been trying to get me to leave for months before I went and did something stupid – like Annie. I keep telling myself that all I did was kiss her. No big deal, but he’s going to know, just like I know, that it’s a huge fucking deal. That girl owns me.

  He corners me in the warehouse. “What the fuck happened?”

  “Topher, I really don’t want to rehash this.”

  “I’m not letting up, Gray. You show up on my doorstep night after night, and I have a right to know.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “She called me last night, Gray. I assumed you went home after work because that’s what you told me you were doing. Where the hell did you go? Normally, if you don’t go home, you’re with me.”

  “I was locking up, and went back to Brett and Dan’s office. The light was on, so I went to turn it off, but Annie was in there packing her stuff up. I honestly thought she had left hours earlier. I didn’t plan it. I walked her to the parking lot, but I didn’t want to watch her leave. I wanted to spend time with her. I knew I shouldn’t do it, but before I knew it, I had basically asked her out. I didn’t expect her to say yes, but she did. I took her to her apartment so she could change. I kissed her. I mean really kissed her,” I sigh. “We left and went to Applebee’s. We talked, laughed, and just had a good time. She’s amazing, Topher. I want to be around her. I want to know her, everything about her.” I don’t know what else to say to him. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

  “Does she know you’re married, Gray?”

  “Who, Annie? Hell no, she doesn’t know I’m married!” Does he think I’m crazy? I wouldn’t even know her name if she knew I was married.

  “You have to tell her. Everyone here knows you’re married. She’s going to look like a fool if people find out you guys are seeing each other. Someone is going to slip up and mention your WIFE to her. Do you want to humiliate her? She’s here on contract. You could ruin her career.”

  I don’t think it would ruin her career, but Topher’s right, there are too many people who know, too many ways for her to find out. Maybe if I tell her myself I’ll have a chance at salvaging this; if she finds out from someone else, I’m toast. “I’m gonna tell her, just not tonight.”

  Rolling his eyes he mutters, “Sure.” For the time being, I know this is the end of our chat, but he won’t let it sit long. He won’t want Abby or Annie embarrassed by my stupidity. He’s too good a guy for that.

  Chapter Nine – Annie

  I’m a little nervous when he knocks on my door, but I don’t want him to know. I hope he can’t smell the weed in my apartment, but I couldn’t help it. I was freaking out waiting on him to get here and needed a way to calm my nerves. It was here and available, so I packed a
bong to set my mind at ease… mostly. When I pull open the door, he’s standing there with that grin on his face while he slowly grazes my body with his stare. There’s something in his smirk that calls to me; it’s endearing. I feel as though I’m the only living soul that ever gets to see that grin.

  I can tell by the way his eyes light up that he likes what he sees. My hair falls in soft waves down the middle of my back. I’m wearing a Dave Matthew’s tee from a concert I went to in high school, which fits me like a glove and a tight white tank underneath it. I squeezed into the tightest jeans I could stomach, yet still be comfortable¸ and of course, my Docs. I step back as he reaches for me, silently asking him to come in. He steps in and snakes an arm around my waist pulling me to him, instantly warming my girly parts. When he kisses me, I think at first it’s just going to be a quick peck hello, but then he deepens the kiss. My hand goes behind his head, and our tongues dance a medley to a song I’ve never heard. His kiss has me completely undone.

  He pulls away. “What’s that smell?” he asks with a look of confusion, and maybe disgust, on his face. Moment of truth – own up to my habits or blame it on a friend. I decide there’s no point in lying; I am who I am. He obviously can’t tell I’m high, or he wouldn’t have asked.

  “I smoked a bowl before you got here to calm my nerves,” I reply sheepishly, waiting for the backlash.

  “You do drugs?” He looks completely shocked.

  “I dabble,” I respond, as if it’s no big deal. If this is his response to smelling marijuana, he’d be out the door faster than I could snort a line if he knew I had an eight ball in the bathroom. I practically live off the two. One to keep me up while I’m at school and working, and the other to bring me down so I can sleep what few hours I can get.